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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29210997">always a well dressed fraud</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/babzilla/pseuds/babzilla'>babzilla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fox Fucks February Fridays [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boot Worship, Clone Trooper OC Sparrow, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Fox Fucks February Fridays (Star Wars), Hatesex Roleplay, Light Bondage, M/M, No men we die like beta, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Pre-Agreed Scene, Sexual Roleplay, Topping from the Bottom, an attempt was made</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:48:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29210997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/babzilla/pseuds/babzilla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the end of his shift when the blip shows up in the Chancellor’s Senate office and Fox has to summon heretofore unseen reserves of patience not to curse out loud from frustration. Even when the man himself is off-world—and for once <i>not</i> Fox’s problem—it seems like the universe won’t allow him a day where he can clock out on time. </p><p>Fox is going to be late for his date— or is he?</p><p>—</p><p>
  <i>Whatever favours were exchanged to make this happen, Fox wouldn’t be complaining.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>With a tap to his HUD control pad he locks the door behind him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Did you need something, Sir?” he asks, his voice only just leaning toward disrespectful as he stands to attention, folding his hands behind his back.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Hm, I did,” Sparrow says, very successfully affecting disdain and still not turning around. “But you’re late, I hardly see the point in it now.”</i>
</p><p>Little shit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-1010 | Fox/Original Clone Trooper Character(s), CC-1010 | Fox/Sparrow (Clone Trooper OC)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fox Fucks February Fridays [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>always a well dressed fraud</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The alliteration got me for this series. There is no plan. And it’s still Friday somewhere on this planet, don’t @ me.</p><p><b>Sparrow is a Clone Trooper OC belonging to slifer_the_sky_noodle</b> ( https://archiveofourown.org/users/slifer_the_sky_noodle/profile ).</p><p>Warnings: Dom/sub, harnesses but not restraints, sexual roleplay featuring power play and dirty talk with derogatory language which may squick some people out. Role switching? Two incidents of face slapping. All consensual, pre-agreed scene, some aftercare shown and more implied.<br/>Let me know if something needs to be added!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s the end of his shift when the blip shows up in the Chancellor’s Senate office and Fox has to summon heretofore unseen reserves of patience not to curse out loud from frustration. Even when the man himself is off-world—and for once </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fox’s problem—it seems like the universe won’t allow him a day where he can clock out on time (despite the Chancellor’s best efforts to assign him ever more inventive tasks which are in no way part of his specs or job description).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s probably just another Guardsman, clearing out the daily selection of fruits and desserts that the Chancellor insists on having delivered to his office, even when he’s not there. A pointless frivolity given that it’s rarely ever touched and has to be replaced every day— meaning that before the Guard had set up terms with the maintenance droids to get the daily leftovers, the obscenely expensive edible arrangements were simply being dumped in the trash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senate budgeting, at its finest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Fox doesn’t dither over whether or not he should follow-up on the inconsistency—he hasn’t come this far without appreciating the need to make sure all the boxes are checked—and hurries over to the nearest terminal to access the security video-feed from the Chancellor’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it’s just his luck that the feeds are registering a signal loss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, it’s likely just a temporary issue— easily chalked up to the Senate building’s rickety old security system which is nowhere near adequate for handling the safety of a government at war. It’s probably nothing, and a less discerning officer might have ignored it and finished out his shift with a simple note on the duty log, but Fox is the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard and he’s the last person expected to cut corners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So his own plans will have to wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huffing inside his bucket, Fox checks his chronometer one more time before he turns and heads further into the bowels of the Senate Rotunda, making for the elevator down to the Chancellery Secretariat, tapping out a message to his lover as he goes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s going to be late, once again. And though Sparrow would never complain—the other Guardsman all too familiar with the demands of the Senate duty shift—Fox’s own resentment over the fact that not even his free time is his own sticks in his craw. The constant expectation of readiness, the high stakes placed on the Guard— the results of their successes or failures more immediately scrutinised in the public eye… it all took a toll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s why they had state-mandated allowances for downtime. Or— they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, Fox thinks bitterly as he punches in his access code for the elevator, using his Command override to go straight to the Chancellor’s working office underneath the Senate Chamber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Away from the probing gazes of the Galactic elite, Fox leans heavily against the elevator wall, shifting his weight uncomfortably after a day spent entirely on his feet as he takes the short reprieve to scroll through his message logs with Sparrow. His lover had spent the four hours after finishing his own half-shift giving Fox a running stream of updates— the text format messages providing the usually shy trooper an opportunity to sound uncharacteristically pert, brazenly reporting on every intimate detail of his preparations for that night. Also uncharacteristically, Sparrow hadn’t given any acknowledgement to Fox’s news of being late— the trooper typically responding to Fox’s messages as soon as he received them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something to think about later, he thinks as he exits the elevator, heading directly to the office that should be shut up and entirely offline. Pulling irritably at his gorget as he goes, he grunts at the ripe scent of the day’s exertions escaping his blacks and walks double-time, eager to put an end to this shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing his blaster, he doesn’t hesitate at the door, stepping right in. His visor instantly registers the low light in the office and the active heating system—both of which should have been offline with the absence of the Chancellor—and he ignores the empty podium in the centre of the office to focus on the great, high-back chair behind the executive desk. It’s turned away from the door and obviously suspicious, so he doesn’t falter as he raises his blaster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can put that down, Commander,” the office’s only other occupant orders firmly. “And you can lock the door behind you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox doesn’t quite flinch, but he is quick to lower his blaster as a few things become immediately clear to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Sparrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shadowed by the great chair and waiting for him behind the desk of the highest authority in the galaxy, his lover sits, giving him orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly holstering his blaster and straightening from his battle-ready stance, Fox casts a quick look around the office, but there’s nothing out of place or otherwise suspicious— his HUD is still registering the security feed to the office as offline, and there are no other life-signs on this level. It’s ten minutes past the end of his shift, and he’s just walked into a trap set by his lover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox will give credit where it’s due— despite his own confidence in Sparrow, he hadn’t thought the trooper could muster up the nerve to pull something on this level. But he’s hardly a sore loser when it comes to his lover, and all the preparations he’s alluded to in his messages give a tantalising hint of what’s to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have had help setting this all up— Sparrow doesn’t have the access to mess with the security feeds or patrol rotations on this level. To his knowledge, Thorn is the only one irreverent enough to help pull this off, or Stone— if he happened to have been deep into an apathetic fugue where he would do just about anything in exchange for time away from the Diplomatic Corps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever favours were exchanged to make this happen, Fox wouldn’t be complaining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a tap to his HUD control pad, he locks the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you need something, Sir?” he asks, his voice only just leaning toward disrespectful as he stands to attention, folding his hands behind his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I did,” Sparrow says, very successfully affecting disdain and still not turning around. “But you’re late, I hardly see the point in it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Little shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Baring his teeth in only a loose imitation of a grin, Fox glares at the back of the executive chair, willing his lover to turn around. He does not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure there’s something I can do to make it up to you,” a pause— “Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a delicate laugh, Sparrow swivels the chair only far enough so that Fox can see his face in profile, cast in shadow; his curls sitting free against his forehead, his brows wrinkled with that same disdain despite the light sparkling in his eyes. “Oh, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to prove it to you, Your Excellency?” he asks, carefully bland as he watches a flash of shock wash across Sparrow’s face before he recovers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re that desperate, I suppose we can see how well you do, Commander,” his lover concedes haughtily, slowly turning in the executive chair so that he can finally face Fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breath. Curled into tight fists behind his back, his fingers itch to remove his helmet, to look at his lover now without the filter of his HUD.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow isn’t in his armour, or his blacks. His curly hair is loose around his face and, in the soft light of the office, it looks like a flaming crown above his head. The dark spirals are the only thing recognisable about his lover at the moment. There’s kohl around his eyes, dark and smouldering, and his smirking lips are painted— red, Fox would guess, for the Guard. Around his neck is a three-way collar in black leatheris, the tail pulled taught down the centre of his chest to his waist where it splits off again, curling around his back in a chevron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox tilts back on his heels, pulling away from the hypnotic draw of finding out where those black straps go, wrapped so perfectly around Sparrow’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning back in the high-backed chair, Sparrow all but radiates self-satisfaction as he studies Fox, standing so far away that it may as well have been torture. But he gives in easily, beckoning the Commander to him with a simple curl of his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox takes a moment before obeying, just to be contrary, but Sparrow’s smirk only widens. They both know that any further delay would just be punishing Fox, and neither of them are willing to do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he approaches the desk, Fox can see more of the work that’s gone into setting this meeting up, peripherally logging the details— the configuration of the desk has been changed completely, the height adjusted and the usually immobile chair moved further back, leaving more than enough space for two people to fit behind the great slab of a workstation. The logistics of making these changes, though, are altogether beyond him at the moment. With the space between the desk and the chair opened up, there’s nothing to obstruct his view of Sparrow the closer he gets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he’d hoped, those leatheris straps—not too thick nor too delicate—did go all the way down. The upward chevron pattern repeated once around Sparrow’s navel, a third band just above his hips anchoring two vertical straps running down the swell of his thighs to secure two separate garters— one just below the juncture of his pelvis and the other just above his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Fox rounds the desk, Sparrow obligingly uncrosses his legs, the polished silver buckles and studs of the harness shining in the soft light as he does so, lending him a demure air despite his state of nudity. And, thankful for his helmet, Fox swallows thickly before wetting his lips at the sight that’s been fully revealed to him at last— his lover’s skin washed in golden light; black lines of leatheris drawing the eye to the curve and slope of the trooper’s muscles; his lover’s cock and balls wrapped in thick bands of silicone, neatly packaged up for Fox, like a present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This close, Fox can see the strain Sparrow’s under— the sweat beading on his skin; his pupils blown wide and dark; the pretty pink flush high on his cheekbones and down his neck; and his hard cock jutting up against his belly, leaving wet spots against his skin and shining in the low light. The trooper had been as good as his word; Fox had no doubts that whatever time hadn’t been spent setting up this scene for him to stumble across, Sparrow had dedicated to teasing and working himself open, bringing himself to the edge over and over until Fox finally came to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, he reaches out to take the trooper’s hand, pulling him to his feet. He can afford a bit of softness— he can’t resist it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at your command, Sir.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sparrow nods, reaching up for Fox’s helmet and removing it. Fox waits, watching as he feels around the rim, manually activating the helmet-cam before he sets it carefully aside on the desk. He turns back to Fox, his eyes very keen, and very dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiss me,” he whispers, and Fox’s smirk is automatic as he leans down, complaisant and sweet as he kisses Sparrow once, his eyes half-lidded as he pulls away to watch how his lover tries to follow him, despite their little game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow’s lips </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> painted red, as he predicted, and he leans down again, wrapping an arm around his lover’s back to pull him closer— swallowing down his shocked gasp with another kiss when the cold plastoid of Fox’s armour makes contact with his flushed skin. Whether by design or impulse, Sparrow allows him to take what he wants; parting his lips to Fox’s tongue, one hand sinking into the short hair at the back of his head while the other reaches down to Fox’s codpiece, making quick work of undoing the catches and discarding the thing before palming his still soft cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to help himself, Fox pulls back to look at his handiwork, his free hand coming up to cup Sparrow’s face, his thumb tracing the corner of his parted lips and taking great enjoyment in watching how the lipstick smeared against his lover’s skin. Following old habits, he lets his thumb slip past Sparrow’s lips, wanting to feel the warmth of his lover’s mouth through the synth-leather—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow bites down, breaking him out of his train of thought, glaring as he lets Fox shake his head as he tries to pull the digit free. He only lets go when Fox stops trying to free himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think you can take liberties, Commander. You’re not in charge here,” Sparrow says with just a touch of poison, squeezing at the bulge in Fox’s blacks. “And I don’t see how you’re going to make anything up to me when you’re not even hard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My deepest apologies, Sir,” he hisses back, his eyes narrow slits as Sparrow mercilessly fondles him through his blacks. “How can I make it up to you?’</span>
</p><p>Sparrow snorts indelicately, apparently feeling just benevolent enough that he lets go of Fox’s dick before he starts arranging the Commander to his liking, tugging him further towards the desk and pushing him down until he sits on the edge. Kicking at Fox’s boots until he spread his legs, Sparrow steps in close between the V of Fox’s thighs before tugging at his blacks, opening the fastenings at his pelvis just enough that he can pull out Fox’s slowly hardening, but still soft, cock.</p><p>
  <span>Stepping back slightly, Sparrow tuts disapprovingly at the sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the point of you if I have to do everything myself?” he says, scowling. And then he goes down to his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the routine is familiar enough, Fox will admit that there’s an extra thrill that shoots up his spine now as he watches Sparrow—so made-up and well presented with a superior look on his face—take Fox’s cock in hand. Stroking him dry for a moment, Sparrow catches his eyes as he licks a long stripe along the underside—from balls to tip, as if just to taste—before swallowing him down whole without warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox doesn’t curse, though it’s a near thing. Sparrow has perfected his technique the longer they’ve been together, but there’s something slightly maddening about the way he always seems content to suck Fox’s dick for as long as he can get away with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching him now— the way his lashes have lowered with focus, the fingertips of one hand gently brushing Fox’s balls, as if to hold them steady, while his other hand lay flat against his own thigh, made him look endearingly modest. The description was almost comical, of course, given the way he bobbed his head fast enough to send his hair swaying—his cheeks hollowed out as he undulated his tongue against the length of Fox’s shaft—all the while further smearing the rouge on his lips and all but drooling on himself as he sucked Fox’s dick to full hardness, quick and dirty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox does give in to the urge to groan out loud when Sparrow finally swallows the entire length of his hard cock down his throat, unmindful of the saliva that escapes from the seal of his lips as his tongue flashes out, teasing at the root of Fox’s dick. Thoughtlessly—lost in the sensations of </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>wet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the flutter of his lover’s throat around his shaft—Fox lays a hand on Sparrow’s head, stroking the mussed up curls out of his face, but that immediately draws his lover’s ire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow emits an odd, negative note, causing a shiver to run through Fox’s body, and glares up at him as he grabs Fox’s wrist and untangles his fingers from his hair, pulling off his dick in the next second.</span>
</p><p>His face is a mess and Fox’s dick jumps at the pretty picture he makes; the red lipstick smudged, saliva running down to his chin, and his mouth in an open snarl— dripping with a pearly mix of pre-cum and yet more saliva. </p><p>
  <span>He spits, dirtying Fox’s boots, and stands, crowding in close until their cocks brush against each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t give you permission to touch me!” Sparrow snaps, his voice a venomous hiss, and Fox thinks that he really is quite lovely, playing this role. “And since you can’t be trusted to wait for instructions, you can stay there and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not move</span>
  </em>
  <span> while I get what I want from you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir,” Fox answers with a petulant sneer, thrusting his hips forward so that their cocks brush together again, only to get another surprise when Sparrow slaps him across the face for his cheek. </span>
</p><p>It’s hardly a substantial blow, certainly nothing they were ever taught in basic training, but the shock of it still makes him gasp and thrust his hips up again. It earns him another slap, and he groans into the kiss that immediately follows, Sparrow’s tongue snaking past his teeth until he can taste himself, still fresh on his lover’s lips.</p><p>Sparrow doesn’t give him any ground to recover, guiding the hand still held in his grasp around and behind himself, covering Fox’s fingers with his own until he finds the rounded edge of the anal plug in Sparrow’s ass. Holding tight, he uses Fox to fuck himself on the plug while he makes Fox’s face as messy as his own, and Fox digs his heels into the plush carpet, straining to keep still under the onslaught. </p><p>
  <span>His lover only lets up when he himself can’t take it anymore, breaking their kiss and grunting softly as he looks over his shoulder, still puppeting Fox’s fingers to pull the plug from his ass and carelessly toss it onto the chair behind him while Fox tries to catch his breath, his chest heaving and feeling overheated in his armour. Following through with his advantage, Sparrow takes hold of both of Fox’s wrists and places them at the edge of the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will keep these here, do you understand?” Sparrow commands, peering down the tip of his nose at Fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir,” he rasps, currently unable to do much else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” his lover says, punctuating the words with another kiss, just a peck on the lips, before turning his back to Fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping still as instructed, he curls his fingers around the edge of the desk, shoulders stiff, as he watches Sparrow reach behind himself to take Fox’s spit-slicked cock in hand and guide it to his hole. They both groan when the head of his cock slips past the lubed and ready ring of muscle, Fox’s breath stuttering in his lungs as Sparrow thrusts back slowly. Humming softly with each thrust as he takes more and more of Fox’s cock—until the curve of his ass settles against the bunched up material of Fox’s blacks—Sparrow takes a moment to arch his back against him and rest his head on Fox’s shoulder, breathing in deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment ends when Sparrow grinds down on Fox’s cock, making him curse and hold on to the desk until the synth-leather of his gauntlets creak with the effort. Huffing a short laugh, Sparrow catches his eyes over his shoulder, pulling away in a steady tempo of short thrusts, the fingers of one hand grazing against Fox’s cuisse to steady himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you are good for something after all, Commander,” his lover says between pants for breath, sounding perfectly snide and patronising— as if he’s the one doing Fox a favour.</span>
</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Fox grunts back, reminding himself that he has to wait for his opportunity to strike as his limbs tingle with the effort of keeping still, distracted by the shallow drag of his cock inside his lover.</p><p>
  <span>“Is this the highlight of your day? Your year?” Sparrow laughs, hiccoughing through his thrusts as he bends forward, almost in half. “Don’t answer that— I doubt you’ll ever have anything better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scrabbling for purchase against Fox’s thighs as he speeds up his thrusts, Sparrow latches on to the straps for the Commander’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span> and holds on tight, pushing himself back onto his lover’s cock with renewed vigour, finally able to lever his weight without fear of falling over. Fox can only rest his weight against the desk and take it, for once at Sparrow’s mercy and enjoying the searing anger and arousal that the words inspire, pooling like lava low in his belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were made for this,” Sparrow groans, his head hanging low as he pulls insistently on the straps of Fox’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span> while he fucks himself on his cock. “It’s really all you’re good for— it’s too bad you’re too stupid to fuck me properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s it— the combined incentive of the words and the staccato rhythm of Sparrow’s thrusts proving to be too much for the fire coursing in his veins, and he reaches out to take hold of the leatheris straps looped around Sparrow’s waist. In one rolling move he disrupts the other trooper’s rhythm, thrusting his hips up while pulling Sparrow back onto his cock with the harness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow shouts, his voice pitched high and sounding strangled, like Fox is fucking the air out of him, but he clings on to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span>, letting the Commander thrust into him with all his strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So sure about that, Your Excellency?” Fox hisses, leaning forward enough to deepen the angle of his thrusts, pulling Sparrow back down on his cock again and again, enjoying the needy, broken gasps and whimpers that escape his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” he asks, reaching out to cup the column of his lover’s throat with his free hand, turning his head until he can see the desperate look on Sparrow’s face, the glint of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “Such a needy whore, so desperate for cock that you’ll even take it from a clone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Answer me!” Fox demands, thrusting faster into the velvet heat of Sparrow’s ass when all he gets back are choked off cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Excellency</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he sneers. “Yes, you’re so disgusting that no one else will have you? Yes, you’re a useless slut that lets anyone fuck your hole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m a slut!” Sparrow gasps immediately, eager to obey as his ass clenches against the smooth glide of Fox’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love taking my cock,” he says, pulling Sparrow down onto his cock by the harness and grinding up into his ass, lights popping behind his eyes at the feeling of the tight heat squeezing his shaft. “You love getting fucked by me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, yes—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love getting fucked by me,” he says again with a hissing breath, letting go of Sparrow’s neck in favour of cupping his bound cock and balls, feeling the heat of them as hot as a brand through the synth-leather of his gauntlets as he strokes him roughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, I love you—” Sparrow gasps wetly, ducking his head down, his knuckles white around the straps of Fox’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be a good little whore and come for me now,” Fox orders, leaning forward to rest his forehead between Sparrow’s shoulder blades, his chest heaving as he grunts in time with his thrusts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I’ll be good, I’ll be— ah!” Sparrow stutters out as Fox’s thumb traces the head of his cock, the muscles in his thighs twitching in time with the shallow, barely-there thrusts of the cock buried deep in his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow continues to whine, squirming against Fox’s hold, and he snorts, taking pity on the trooper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, Your Excellency, are you a liar now, too?” he asks, pumping into his lover in time with his words as he tugs at the silicone bands wrapped around Sparrow’s cock and balls, squeezing him tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow bites back the ragged sound that tries to escape his throat, jerking in Fox’s hold but with nowhere to go as he shudders through his orgasm, painting Fox’s gauntlet with his come. He shakes in Fox’s arms, his head still hanging low and breathing unevenly as he rides out the sensation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling his lover’s body contract helplessly around him, Fox growls, bending Sparrow further forward and resuming his harsh rhythm, chasing his own pleasure. Sparrow makes no sound but for his whimpering gasps, hands still clutching the straps of Fox’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span> as the Commander uses his body as he likes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you wanted, baby?” Fox asks, rising from the desk and lengthening his strokes, one hand at Sparrow’s hip and the other pulling on his harness. “Did you need to be fucked stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> badly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparrow’s only answer is a groan, holding still and pliant in Fox’s hold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well? Aren’t you going to thank me? Aren’t you grateful that I’d fuck someone as pathetic as you?” Fox grunts, not really seeking an answer as he feels his balls contract, on the edge of coming at last. “Don’t you want me to come in your hole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This, finally, inspires Sparrow to find his tongue, crying out— “Yes! Please, I want it, I, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Sparrow’s voice, in the end—begging so sweetly—is what pushes him over the edge. His back arches as he holds his lover against him, grinding his hips against Sparrow’s ass while he comes inside him, pins and needles tingling over his skin as his orgasm washes over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bent almost in half, Sparrow shudders again as his dick jerks in the cock ring, still hard and dripping come as he gasps for breath. Stroking a hand down Sparrow’s back, Fox reaches for the buckles holding the collar and harness together but only gets swatted away for his trouble— the trooper finally letting go of the straps to his </span>
  <em>
    <span>kama</span>
  </em>
  <span> in order to shoo his hands away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not done yet, baby?” Fox laughs, gently pulling his lover upright again and holding him flush against his chest plate as Sparrow half-turns to kiss him, all the while still squirming on Fox’s spent cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have fun?” Fox asks, smiling lopsidedly at Sparrow’s nod, already knowing what will come next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you?” Sparrow returns, his voice sounding hoarse. He’s chewing nervously on his bottom lip, so Fox kisses him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did great, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Excellency</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Fox teases, just to watch Sparrow’s blush climb to the roots of his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stroking along his flanks, Fox drops a few kisses across Sparrow’s shoulders, holding him steady as he tries to pull out, but Sparrow still whines when Fox leans back, grabbing onto his cuisse again, keeping them close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Fox can ask what he wants, Sparrow is bending forward again, grabbing the plug that had been left discarded on the high-backed chair and passing it to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Round two when we get back?” he asks, looking at Fox over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you want to walk all the way to the barracks full of my come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox shrugs, taking the anal plug from Sparrow while carefully easing his cock out of his ass. He obligingly replaces it with the chrome bulb and watches as his lover’s hole clenches around the stem, hissing at the cool temperature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” he says, gently smacking Sparrow’s thigh. “You left a mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gestures to his boot and Sparrow nods without complaint, pulling at Fox until he had them both turned around before pushing him down so he sat in the Chancellor’s executive chair. Satisfied with that, Sparrow went down to his knees again, laying careful kisses against the seams of his armour—where his blacks showed through—before he finally settled at Fox’s feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Working his way slowly down the shin-guard, Sparrow raises his eyes, catching Fox’s gaze and holding it until he was level with the floor. Then, without hesitation, he proceeded to lick at the mess of pre-cum he’d spat there. Working his way meticulously around the contours of the boot, he licks and kisses his way over the entire surface, occasionally looking up and letting Fox inspect his mouth, to show that he had swallowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t suppose you’ve learned your lesson for next time?” Fox asks once he’s done, beckoning Sparrow forward until he could rest his head against his thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Sparrow shakes his head before nuzzling into Fox’s cuisse. “Probably not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing softly, Fox reclines in the Chancellor’s chair, stroking his lover’s curls, loose-limbed and content for the moment. They won’t be able to stay in the office all night—nor does Fox want to—and pretty soon they’ll need to get Sparrow dressed, get the evidence of their play packed up, reset the security system, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> set the maintenance droid to clean up after them, but for now, it’s a nice feeling to savour. </span>
</p><p>Alone and guaranteed privacy, with no demands on their time, Fox is well and truly relaxed for the first time in weeks.</p><p>They can take a moment longer, together, before going back out into the real world.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My other WIPs: [rattling the bars of the cage]</p><p>If you see any errors, let me know 😩</p><p>tumblr: @babzilla</p></blockquote></div></div>
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